Without Her...
by Vergere
Summary: During the NJO period, this centers around Luke and explores what would happen if Mara died. NOTE: i have nothing against Mara Jade. Please read, I'd like comments.


Disclaimer: Of course, not a single character used it mine, only the situation.  
  
Author's Notes: This is the first fanfic I wrote to the end, though edited and revised just a bit. I'd like thank anyone who reads and responds to this, for whatever feedback I receive I take to heart(well all the good feedback...the flaming goes out with the trash). The most common question I've been asked is where the opening scenes take place, and really I don't know...I've decided to keep it that way, so as to not take the spotlight off of the characters. Use your imagination at your discretion :) Enjoy!  
~  
  
Without Her...  
  
  
Luke rushed towards Anakin, a med kit in hand. His nephew was crawling away from two opponents--Mara and a Yuuzhan Vong warrior. Immediately his heart went out to Mara. [She shouldn't even be fighting, with the disease,] he thought as he reached Anakin and helped him away from the battle.   
  
"How bad is it?" he asked, opening the med kit.   
  
Anakin winced, "I don't want to know, it feels like my side's on fire!"   
  
"Let me see," Luke forcibly pulled Anakin's arm from his body. "Oh, Anakin..." he grimaced.  
  
"What?"   
  
"It's...well...here," Luke slapped two patches of pain reliever on Anakin's arm and then took out the bandages, all the time glancing up to see his wife's battle. He could already see tiny holes in her defense that would soon become fatal.   
  
Luke turned back to Anakin. He cut his jumpsuit open and wrapped Anakin's entire torso in gauze, which almost immediately soaked through with blood. Luke used the Force to somewhat clot the blood, encouraging Anakin to do likewise.   
  
"Are you better?"   
  
"A little, the pain's not as bad," Anakin avoided Luke's gaze.   
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"It's just...she shouldn't be out there, fighting like that. It's my fault she's there."   
  
"No, don't ever think that, Anakin," Luke caught his nephew's gaze, his own blue eyes reflecting back to him twenty-five years younger. Anakin looked away. "Are you okay for now?" Luke asked.   
  
Anakin nodded, "Yeah, as long as there's no more Vong," he smiled a little. Luke smiled a tight smile back, his eyes conveying the urgency he felt for Mara.   
  
"I'm going to help your aunt. See if you can get your mom to come and stay with you." Luke got up and started to run towards Mara, who was barely holding her own against the Vong.   
  
And then she fell, crying out in pain and frustration as Luke felt her call to him. In an instant the Vong warrior was bringing his weapon down on her, but Luke had felt Mara call to him before she fell, and his lightsaber was out and at the ready.   
  
Luke parried the blow meant for Mara with all his strength, just as she had done for Anakin. He regained his balance and began to attack, forcing the warrior away from where Mara lay.   
  
He was so absorbed in saving his wife that he didn't realize that anger lashed out through each lightsaber strike, not justice. He wasn't aware that he was homing in on the dark side. [I won't let them take her from me!]   
  
In the distance, he heard his name being shouted–as if it were a dream. It was Mara. [Don't let go of your anger for me, it's not worth it; not for me,] she pleaded silently to him, hoping he would hear.   
  
He did. Luke suddenly realized that he was shaking, that the coldness of the dark side was palpable. He loosened his attack and changed his stance to defensive, clearing his mind and dissolving his anger and fear. At the very edge of his mind, he searched for a plan.   
  
[Leia!] he called out. She was nearby–[She must be with Anakin,] he thought. It seemed like forever until she was at his side.  
  
"I'm here." Luke heard her urgent voice behind him, and then the thrum of her lightsaber. Leia moved behind the Vong, so that the two, brother and sister, were facing each other.   
  
The warrior began to attack both opponents, at first succeeding in keeping what little ground he had left. But there was no hope for him and he knew it.   
  
[I'll distract him,] Luke sent to his twin. She nodded. Luke was expecting a longer battle, but as he blocked the Vong's latest strike, Leia found her opportunity. Her glowing red lightsaber stabbed cleanly into the joint of the opponent's armor where the arm joined the body. The armor stiffened, suffocating the warrior and leading to a quick death.   
  
Leia shut down her lightsaber with a sigh of relief. Part of her mind was alert, searching for other Vong. They had found only four so far, usually there were more. The other part was uncertain of the mixed feelings that were rolling off her brother. But within the split second of a heartbeat, she knew the answer to her questions. "Go," she said gently, but he was already running to her.   
  
  
  
Mara was motionless, lying where she had collapsed in the fine blades of grass that composed the field. Luke took her in his arms. "Are you okay?" he asked breathlessly, knowing that it was a very pointless question. It was obvious she was not okay. Nothing was okay at the moment.   
  
"I will be," she answered in a painfully weak voice. Her hand slid away from her body to grip his hand, revealing a deep red gash across her right shoulder. Luke tore a section of his tunic off and pressed it to her wound firmly.   
  
"I've got to get you to the medics," he stated, and began to lift her.   
  
"No, Luke, please. Nothing can change what has happened. Let me be in your arms, not in a bacta tank when I--" she stopped as she saw the pain in her husband's eyes, the conflict of his emotions.   
"But I can do something," he sound so sure, so innocent of what was the truth. "Bacta can easily heal that."  
Mara's face contorted with the emotions that were running through her. For this to be the last time she would hold him in her arms... Her brow furrowed as she spoke. She wouldn't cry. "Not with this disease. I've already lost so much blood--"  
  
"No!" he protested, "I won't watch you just...just..." he trailed off, realizing the inevitable. "I can save you, I've done it before," he strained, but this time it was softer.  
  
She pulled his face closer to hers, her hands shaking and covered in blood. She knew what was happening, just as she knew he was denying it. "You know in your heart you can't change it."   
  
He paused. [There has to be some way...] But no, there wasn't. Mara was right, as she always had a way of being. There was nothing he could do.   
  
"Tell Anakin it isn't his fault. Make him understand that. He must understand that."   
  
"You saved his life, Mara."  
  
"Tell Leia she's welcome. I know she would want to thank me for her youngest's life."   
  
"I love you, Mara. How am I supposed to live life without you?"   
  
"Tell yourself there is nothing you can do to change what has already happened."   
  
"Mara..."   
  
"I will always be with you, Luke"   
  
"No," he whispered stubbornly, "You won't."   
  
"I will live in your memories."   
  
"But you won't be there sleeping beside me when I wake, or to savor the quiet moments in the evening when it's only us. You won't--" his voice broke. "How am I to live with out your fire, your presence, your soul next to mine?" Luke caressed her hair, her cheek, her lips. He looked deeply into her eyes, searching for a way to undo what could not possibly be undone.   
  
"You will," her voice was fading, becoming softer with each word. They were both crying, their tears lost between the blades of grass. "It's not fair, Luke. We should have had a hundred years."   
  
"Tell me you know how much you mean to me," he demanded.  
  
"I know, you know I do," she assured him. "I know you realize how much you mean to me, how much I love you."   
  
Their foreheads came together, their tears mixing into one.   
  
"You brought the Light back into my life, you pulled me from Darkness," he held her tighter, as if it would keep her from leaving.   
  
"And you replaced what Palpatine stole, but that wasn't enough, was it?" she said, her voice turning bittersweet. Luke shook his head, wishing it were.   
  
"I love you," the grip of her hand on his loosened.   
  
"No," he breathed, "Don't say goodbye yet, we still have time."   
  
"Our time is waning, Luke. Promise--" she struggled for breath.  
  
"Mara--"   
  
"*Promise* me you will go on."   
  
He was about to make a useless struggle, but he realized suddenly how little precious time was really left. "I will," he barely whispered, even though his heart disagreed violently.   
  
[I love you,] she sent him, her mind caressing his ever so lightly. She slumped back in his arms and Luke watched as her eyelids fell, forever sealing in the emerald green eyes that he had come to adore. He engraved that image into his memory, never to be forgotten.   
  
"Don't leave me," he begged, pleaded. "Please, Mara...I love you," he said desperately, as if the words would bring her back. Luke leaned down for one last kiss, but she did not return it. As all the others had, she faded away, leaving his lips to search the air for her. He reached out for her presence with all of his might, but he could only touch a whisper of what she had been. After a moment, even that faded.   
  
Luke picked up the lightsaber she had left behind, the only physical evidence of her other than the blood that he wore on himself; the clothes that lay in a pile on the ground. Luke recalled the night he had given the weapon to her. They hadn't even been friends then, let alone lovers.   
  
Using the Force, he shifted the wires, disabling the lightsaber for the rest of time. Its history stopped here, with Mara. He then stood, and hurled it as far as he could, the rage in his heart funneling into his strength. Without waiting to see it land–without wanting to see it land-- he screamed in anguish as he dropped to his knees. He had never felt more alone in his life.   
  
  
  
Leia absently clipped her lightsaber to her belt as she watched Luke run to his fallen wife. He fell to where she lay and took her in his arms. She could feel his anger, his turmoil, as clearly as she could feel her own emotions running wild.   
  
Leia realized that her hands had formed tight fists, and forced herself to relax. She looked down at her feet and saw the hand of the dead Vong at the tip of her boot. The sight nauseated her, but she could not find the will or the strength to move away, and so she looked up again.   
  
It wasn't fair to him; to Luke. Ever since she had known him, he had been disconnected from solid ground. Owen and Beru had died before he had rescued her, and then Obi-Wan Kenobi during their escape. His childhood friends had sacrificed their lives during the ensuing war with the Empire, his own father had tried to corrupt him...the list went on and on.   
  
And now Mara. Leia didn't know if Luke could handle the shock. Ever since they had returned from finding the Hand of Thrawn, she had never seen her brother smile so much. She didn't understand the bond that they shared, but she knew that it was too sacred to be broken.   
  
And then there was Anakin. Mara had given her life for his. She had saved him. Leia felt a mother's relief, but a friend's guilt. She would be forever grateful for Mara's sacrifice, but somehow, she felt responsible for putting Mara in that position in the first place--   
  
A touch on her mind broke the chain of her thoughts. It was a cautious touch, a rather afraid one, and it receded quickly. [Anakin,] Leia identified her son immediately.   
  
"Mom?"   
  
She turned, her anger already flared. "You should be in a bacta tank," she said with more bite than she had intended. Anakin straightened at this.   
  
"I want to be here," he answered, stubbornness edging his voice. Leia looked her son up and down. His entire torso was bandaged from arm pit to hip with new dressing. An equally new patch of pain reliever was visible on his bare arm, but the pain was just as visible on his face. He leaned heavily on crutches. His hair was tousled, his face scraped, his jumpsuit replaced with a pair of generic military fatigues, cinched at the waist with a drawstring because they were three sizes too big for him. But he wore his utility belt nevertheless with his lightsaber hanging from it as it always did. He looked so very different from the little boy Leia so often pictured him as. The little boy that saw starships as toys.   
  
Only his eyes were the same. Leia had only known one other with eyes such as Anakin's, and that was Luke. Anakin had inherited the blue, innocent, eager eyes that his Uncle Luke had had all those years ago. They were the eyes of a dreamer, and pained Leia to deny her son those dreams.   
  
"She saved my life," he whispered, looking down at the ground. Leia heard him sniffle, and went to his side.   
  
"Yes, she did."   
  
"I feel like--like it's my fault. Like everything is. Chewie's death; Daeshara'cor's," he admitted slowly. "And now Mara's."   
  
"Oh, no, Anakin. No," she wrapped him in her arms, cautious of his wound. "Don't ever think that. Mara knew what she was risking. Deep down, you know she did. Mara knew you were worth saving, even if it meant a different end for herself."   
  
Anakin's head dropped to his mother's shoulder. "Mom?"   
  
"Yes?"   
  
"Will the killing ever end?"   
  
Leia inhaled sharply. A vibroblade slashed through her heart at those words. To hear her youngest, most innocent child ask that was something she had never prepared for. The worst part was that she knew from experience that it never would. She had lost her childhood to uprising war. She prayed every night that her own would not have to go through that pain and regret, but it was clear now that they would face the same situation she had.   
  
"I can't say yes, Anakin," she replied slowly, her tone a mix of part fury and part apology. "I wish I could."   
  
Suddenly, they felt a blast of the Force in it's purest state.   
  
"She's gone," Anakin whispered.   
  
Leia reached out for Mara's presence. "Yes, she is." Anakin looked up at her with a helpless gaze, ready to burst into tears. "Let's go get you into the bacta tank, Anakin," she said softly.   
  
  
  
[Two months later.]   
  
Jacen pushed the buzzer of his uncle's suite, uncertainty edging his thoughts. When no one came to the door, Jacen hardened his resolve and pushed the buzzer again, this time leaving the pressure on the button a little longer.   
  
The door slid open to reveal Luke, looking his absolute worst.   
  
"Uncle Luke?!" Jacen gasped, searching for something about his uncle that was familiar to him. Even his presence felt different.   
Luke's hair was pointing in every which way, his clothes were wrinkled, his face, which had obviously not been shaved, was shadowed with a fully grown beard. There were dark bags that hung under his eyes that Jacen guessed were the result of lack of sleep.   
  
"Jacen," Luke answered, his voice shaky. He hadn't spoken in a while.   
  
"May I come in?" Jacen asked, his uncertainty now replaced by hesitancy. He didn't exactly know what to find inside of the apartment, and he didn't know if he really wanted to find out. [No,] he strengthened his resolve once again, [I must talk to him about this.]   
  
"Yeah, sure," Luke stepped aside so that his nephew could enter through to doorway. The door slid shut automatically, plunging the room into a near total darkness.   
  
Once Jacen's eyes adjusted, he gawked at the sight before him. The furniture was in disarray, with dirty clothes and used food trays lying everywhere. Mixed among the mess was trash that consisted mostly of datacards and pieces of flimsi. He frowned. How could his uncle, the amazing Jedi Master and Hero of the Rebellion, live like this?   
  
"Lights," Jacen commanded, and the room suddenly flooded with foreign yellow light. Jacen turned to find his uncle squinting, and then turned back to the room, which looked worse with the lights on.   
  
He decided to take a chance and walked down the hallway to his right. He came upon the refresher station, which was decorated with, thankfully, none of the things he had noticed in the main living room. It was actually clean, and Jacen guessed this was because it hadn't been used in a very long time. He continued down the hallway with Luke following behind and keeping quiet, as if he were a scolded child.   
  
Jacen walked to the door of the bedroom. The door was open, but Jacen paused. It wasn't his place at all to burst into his uncle's bedroom.   
  
"You can go in," he heard his uncle whisper his consent from behind, and Jacen stepped into the room. He asked for lights again, and was pleasantly surprised. The bed was made and the floor was spotless.   
  
[He must be staying on the couch,] Jacen concluded.   
  
Somehow satisfied by seeing the bedroom, Jacen spun on his heel to face his uncle. "I've come for your help."   
  
"My help?"   
  
"Yes, you have to do something about the Jedi. The galaxy is in chaos as it is, it doesn't need little armies of Jedi avengers to add to the list."   
  
"What can I do about it, Jacen?" Luke asked and started to lead him back to the main room that Jacen dreaded. "I've tried to resurrect the Jedi Council and the Senate opposed it. It's simply impossible to keep over a hundred Jedi in line."   
  
Jacen was shocked by his uncle's words. He had never heard Luke speak more negatively in his life. "If someone can do it, it's you," Jacen offered.   
  
"No, it isn't," Luke sighed, "I've tried."   
  
"Do or do not, there is no try," Jacen quoted, hoping to open his uncle's eyes to the urgency of the situation.   
  
"Don't quote. You know very well what I said is true."   
  
Jacen stopped walking. He had never known his uncle to not debate the use of a quote like that. He took two long strides and was at Luke's side again. "You're not even putting any effort into the Jedi anymore."   
  
"How can you say that?"   
  
"You were the leader, you're the place where the answers lie. You haven't gathered the Jedi together for over two months."   
  
Luke sat down in a chair laden with clothes. "Sit down, if you want," Luke motioned to the couch.   
  
Jacen didn't want to have anything to do with the couch, but he thought that maybe if he sat down as well, the situation he was in might improve. He picked his way through the food trays to find a clear spot. "At least before Aunt Mara--" Jacen snapped his mouth shut. He knew he shouldn't have brought that point up, and that was partially the reason why he had stopped talking, but the other half was because he had come across a holoprojector buried beneath the trays on the couch.   
  
The device was falling apart, as if someone had thrown it against a wall or had stepped on it, but it stubbornly continued to project the scenes programed into it. They were clouded by static and half destroyed, but the people were easily recognizable.   
  
One picture was of Mara in her wedding dress, walking down the isle. Another was of Luke saying his vows. Another was of them kissing, sealing their vows forever. It went on, a forgotten scrapbook of memories. Memories Luke had been trying to erase.  
  
Jacen sighed, not knowing what to say. He looked to Luke, who was staring blankly at the images. "Just because she's not here doesn't mean your life stops," Jacen said gently.   
  
"It's not that simple."   
  
"Yes, I believe it is. You knew her better than any of us...would she smile at this sight?" Jacen motioned to the room, "Would she accept who you've become? If you think--"   
  
"I don't know what to think anymore!" Luke shouted.   
  
Jacen was stunned. He had never before heard his uncle yell before. He had always been so passive and neutral.  
  
Uncle and nephew sat in silence for a while.   
  
"Are you going to help?" Jacen asked, restlessness urging him to speak.   
  
"No."   
  
"What?!" he exclaimed, clearly surprised. "You have to, you're obligated--"   
  
"I'm not *obligated* to do anything!"   
  
Jacen looked his uncle in the eyes, furious at what he saw. "You've changed," he commented coldly, "You're not who I once knew; the man I once admired." With that, Jacen got up and stormed into the hallway, throwing trays and trash and clothing everywhere in his wake.   
  
Luke kept his seat, seemingly not caring. Before the door slid closed to the apartment, Jacen heard his uncle speak, "Lights, low."   
  
He had to draw every ounce of available strength into calming himself. Jacen stepped into the turbolift car.   
  
His mother would hear about this.   
  
  
  
Leia turned to her three children and stopped pacing the floor. "How can he be doing *nothing*?" she asked, exasperated. No one answered. Jacen, Jaina, and Anakin looked at each other instead, silently prodding the other two to respond.   
  
"Is he really that bad?" Jaina asked her twin.   
  
"Yes," Jacen answered simply.   
  
"Well, what are we going to do about it?" Anakin asked. "It's true, Jacen. The Jedi order has broken in to chaos without Uncle Luke to mediate..." Anakin trailed off when he saw the look on his siblings' faces.   
  
[When has he ever agreed with you?] Jaina asked.   
  
"What?" Anakin asked, knowing his brother and sister were conversing.   
  
"I don't care about the Jedi order at the moment, kids. I want you're uncle Luke back to normal."   
  
The three adolescents nodded in agreement with their mother, who had begun to pace again.   
  
"If you're father were here..." Leia stopped. He wasn't here, and that was another problem. She turned to her children, "Where *is* your father?!"   
  
They looked at each other in question, again challenging the others to respond.   
  
"Of all the times, Han," Leia whispered to herself.   
  
"I'll go," Anakin's voice broke the brittle silence.   
  
"No, I don't want you to go, Anakin. None of you should go. None of you should see him that way."   
  
"But...it's my fault he's like that--"   
  
"No," Leia cut him off sharply. "No, it isn't, Anakin," she said softer this time. "I'll go tonight."   
  
"What will you say?" Jaina asked what all four were thinking.   
  
"I have no idea."   
  
  
  
Leia approached her brother's suite and inhaled deeply, calming her nerves. She had decided to take a very direct approach, which would probably take less time than coaxing Luke to return to his life. Behind her were two maintenance men she had payed to follow her. Each was rolling an empty cart.   
  
Actually, Leia realized, she hadn't been this persistent since the Rebellion. Besides, a direct approach had always worked for Mara.   
  
[Mara...]   
  
Leia shook the memories from her head and entered the code Luke had given her. The door slid open, and Leia stepped inside.   
  
"Follow me," Leia ordered the two men behind her. She walked further into the room.   
  
The smell hit her first. It smelled terrible. In the back of her mind, she was ashamed that the two men behind her had to see this. "Lights," she asked loudly, and the room was instantly brightened. Leia winced. Jacen wasn't exaggerating. She noticed a moving heap on what appeared to be a couch.   
  
"Wha–What?" Luke asked, dazed. Leia ignored him for the moment.   
  
"You," she pointed to one of the men, "put every bit of trash into that bin and take it to the dump." The man nodded and began to toss food trays and such into his cart. "You," Leia motioned to the other man, "Pick up all the dirty clothes and have them laundered and brought  
back here clean."   
  
With both men inching their way around the room, Leia turned to her brother. "Luke, get up," she said, impatience edging her voice. How could he live like this?   
  
"Leia? What are you doing--"   
  
"Get up!" Leia ordered, and Luke was on his feet, wavering just a bit. "Here," Leia handed him soap, shampoo, a razor, and a new set of clothes. "Go to the 'fresher station, wash yourself off, and shave, for Force's sake. You look like you just walked out of a Wampa's maw."   
  
"Leia--" Luke started in a warning tone.   
  
"Go!" she pointed down the hallway and Luke looked into her eyes. Knowing he was already losing the battle with her, he sighed, and started off down the hallway. "When you come back, we'll talk about this new life you've acquired," she promised.   
  
  
  
He came out looking somewhat presentable. It was a thousand times better than before, at least. By the time Luke had returned to the main room, the men had finished their appointed jobs. Leia talked with them briefly, and they left, leaving brother and sister alone with a stiff air between them.   
  
"Now what's this all about?" Luke started off.   
  
"You."   
  
"What?"   
  
"Exactly."   
  
"Will you at least act rational?"   
  
"Oh, I see," Leia answered in mock understanding, "You don't like it when I change, do you?"   
  
"No, I don't."   
  
"Have a seat Luke. If you'll notice, there's furniture in this room, not heaps of dirty dishes and clothes."   
  
"Leia--"   
  
"Sit down!" she commanded.   
  
He sat rather quickly.   
  
"Now, we're going to discuss this little problem you've developed."   
  
"What problem?" he asked mildly.   
  
"Don't get smart with me, you know very well. What I'm suggesting you do is get your life back together."   
  
"Leia, I don't know--"   
  
"Yes. You do," she insisted. "Don't act innocent, Luke. You haven't shaved in two months if you don't count tonight, your apartment looked like a pack of Hutts had been living here just an hour ago, and you've been acting drastically different than I've ever known you to."   
  
"You don't understand," his voice quieted and he looked down to his hands.   
  
"What?! What don't I understand? That Mara's death hurts? That everything reminds me of her? That the media won't leave me alone about it? Is that what I don't understand, Luke?!"   
  
Luke repressed a grimace. That was exactly it. "No, it isn't," he said instead, not wholly understanding why.   
  
"Then what is?" she caught his gaze with her's.   
  
"She was..." he started off, "She was my life..."   
  
"No, Luke. She was your wife. You still have a life, you just refuse to believe it," Leia laid a hand on her brother's forearm.   
  
"I can't go on without her."   
  
"But you have been. Even if it hasn't been the most effective way," she added, just loud enough for him to hear. "You have to realize that life goes on."  
  
"Not for me," he insisted.   
  
"Yes, for you! You've got a nephew who feels responsible for three peoples' deaths, an apprentice who has no confidant, a niece that is grieving for her teacher, a society of Jedi that are running around with their heads cut off, an alien race trying to invade out galaxy, a sister who needs you--" her voice was transforming from assertive to pleading, and Luke could spot tears in her eyes.   
  
"It's just not fair," he whispered.   
  
"Life's not fair, Luke," she held her tears back, "Did you think it was? How could you?! Our father was Darth Vader--!" she was trying to hold back the tears, she really was, but they overwhelmed her. Luke took her shoulders and firmly turned her to face him.   
"Leia," he said, trying to bring her back from the memories he knew she was suffering.   
  
"I--I need you, Luke," she admitted helplessly, "I have a husband bent on drinking to his death. I can't worry for you both," she tried to smile a bit.   
  
"I wish I could help--"   
  
"That's not enough," Leia bit out, "You *have* to help! Luke, you have to pick up and move on!" She spoke in that diplomatic but matter of fact tone that she slipped into so easily.   
  
"I...I can't."   
  
"And why not?!"   
  
"Because..." Leia looked at him questioningly. "You wouldn't understand."   
  
"You know what that sounds like to me?"   
  
"I don't--"   
  
"A bunch of lousy excuses!"   
  
"Think what you will--"   
  
Leia jumped up, outraged. "I don't know what has come over you! You have a family who loves you, who would help you, and--"   
  
"It's not that simple!" Luke rose his voice to match hers.   
  
"Well, here's something that is: I'm giving you one chance to pick up the pieces of your life and fit them back together, Luke Skywalker. One chance!" she held up her finger for emphasis. "Is that simple enough for you?!" she yelled.   
  
"Leia, everyone can probably hear you," Luke informed her.   
  
"I don't care! I hope they do, then they'll find out what their hero of the New Republic has turned into! You had the whole galaxy looking to you at one point, what happened?"   
  
He didn't answer and Leia scoffed. "Fine! Don't answer me, but if you don't get your life together by two weeks from now, which is the anniversary of the Battle of Yavin–and you're expected to be at the ceremony– you won't have a family to turn to anymore," she started away in a huff, but turned and pointed her finger at Luke as an afterthought. "And stay away from my children!" she threatened, "They do not deserve to see you like this."   
  
She then turned sharply and stormed into the hallway, leaving Luke alone with her lingering words and his haunting memories.   
  
  
  
Luke sat for a long time after Leia had left. He knew his sister well, and he knew that the words she had said were real; she would stand by them. But the words she had said didn't really frighten him, to say that they stunned him would be more appropriate. He had forgotten that underneath the negotiation skills and diplomatic smiles, a fire burned in Leia that she had hidden well a long time ago.   
  
As he sifted through their argument, he couldn't understand what possessed him not to tell her what was really wrong. "You wouldn't understand," he had repeated over and over, unwilling to tell her. But why? She would understand, he realized. In the end he assumed he just wasn't ready to let go and share with her the only thing he had left of Mara–his grief for her.  
  
Luke dissolved the distractions around him and assumed a meditative position, something that he had been doing often of late. He found his inner peace and the rhythm of the Force, and joined that rhythm with his own song. At first, there was silence. Nothing came to him. Then, from the silence, came the truth:   
  
[You had the whole galaxy looking to you...]   
  
[You've changed...]   
  
[...a nephew that feels responsible for three peoples deaths...]   
  
[...an apprentice that has no confidant...]   
  
[...a niece grieving for her teacher...]   
  
[I need you...]   
  
[...a family that loves you...]   
  
But above all of these voices and words echoing throughout his mind, were the words that he knew deep down he hadn't been faithful to, and this fact shamed him more than anything.   
  
[*Promise*...me you will go on...] Luke shook his head, hoping to rid himself of her voice.   
  
[*Promise*.] "Please, just leave me alone!"   
  
[*Promise*...] Her voice was relentless. It was so real, so palpable, it was as if she were at his shoulder, whispering in his ear.  
  
He sighed, pulling himself from the strong connection with the Force and escaping the accusing words. He had found what he had been seeking.   
Mara had not asked him to move on so that her words would haunt him after her death, she had made him promise because she had known her husband well. She had known he would resist life after her, and she had made sure that he would live the life he deserved, with or without her.   
  
  
  
Luke snapped on his utility belt and clipped his lightsaber onto it. He took the comlink from the belt and tuned it to the frequency R2-D2 would most likely be using.   
  
"Artoo, are you there?" he asked into it.   
  
Instantly, the line exploded into whistles and beeps that seemed never-ending.   
  
"Artoo?! Slow down, I can't understand anything you're saying!" Luke's words punctuated the constant flow of Artoo's language. The droid stopped and repeated part of what he had said.   
  
"What?--never mind. Meet me at my X-wing as soon as you can get there--do you know where it's docked?"   
  
There was an inquisitive whistle.   
  
"It's in the military headquarters maintenance bay number two. I'll see you there." Artoo beeped an affirmative. Luke clipped the comlink back onto his belt and started off to the maintenance bay.   
  
  
  
When Luke arrived, Artoo was already snugly nestled into the R2 unit pod of the X-wing and prepping the fighter for takeoff. Luke climbed up the ladder and jumped into the cockpit. "So what have you been up to?" he asked the droid as he slipped on his helmet.   
  
A flurry of whistles and beeps were translated on the screen before him.   
  
"The under-city?! What in blazes were you doing there?"   
  
Another translation scrolled across the screen.   
  
"Abandoned? Artoo, I would never abandon you--"   
  
Artoo interrupted with some sharp comments that made all too much sense.   
  
"Oh, Artoo," Luke sighed. "I didn't mean to forget about you. It's just...I don't know. I'm sorry, Artoo–forgive me?"   
  
The little droid accepted the apology after a moment, then issued another series of beeps and whistles–ones that seemed subdued and mournful. [I miss her, too,] Luke read, the words blazing in green at him, standing out against the black screen they were mounted on.   
  
"Yes," he whispered, amazed at how much Artoo seemed like a person to him. No, not seemed...was. Silence hung in the air, thick with emotion that scientists claimed a sentient being and a droid could never share. R2-D2 decided that it was back to business again, and presented a question.  
  
"Yavin Four," Luke answered. "I have a farewell to say," he added quietly.   
  
In response, Artoo raised the X-wing and closed the cockpit.   
  
"Okay, okay, we're going," Luke rested his hands on the controls and turned the ship so that its nose pointed to the open hangar doors. "Did you get us clearance?" he asked.   
  
Artoo assured his master that he did, and Luke flew the ship out of the bay and through to many lines of traffic into deep space.   
  
"Ready for hyperspace," Luke announced after Artoo had confirmed the coordinates to Yavin Four were registered into the navicomputer. Luke pulled back on the lever and was thrust into a tunnel of blue and white surreal light.   
  
  
  
Luke piloted the X-wing to land in the jungle of Yavin Four. It was just at sunset, and the variety of greens were offset by the reds and oranges that mingled among them.   
  
A translation scrolled across the screen before him.  
  
"Because if I land at the Academy's platform, I'll be noticed by Streen and the students and I don't want to be bothered," he explained as he smiled at the trademark curiosity of R2-D2.   
  
Luke popped the canopy's hatch and jumped out, landing lightly on the uneven ground. Artoo began to rise out of his pod, as well.   
  
"No, Artoo, you stay here."   
  
The droid's unhappy and argumentative response echoed softly between the trees.   
  
"No, I want to go alone," Luke insisted, sharper this time.   
  
Artoo protested again, but settled back into his pod.   
  
"While I'm gone, you can sort through my messages," Luke offered, hoping to calm the droid.   
  
Artoo consented, his antenna rising from his dome as he began to sing to himself.  
  
  
  
Luke had to walk a good two hours until he found the place he was aiming for, and by that time the light around him was only that of his ignited lightsaber.   
  
He looked to the clearing he was approaching. Luke himself had made it when the very first generation of Jedi had graduated from the Academy.   
  
He held up his lightsaber so that the glow of it would play across the many markers standing solidly in the soil of the jungle. "In remembrance for the ones who have died, sacrificed, and lost the fight," he whispered solemnly.   
  
Gantoris, Dorsk 81, Mikos Reglia., a number more of students that he should have gotten to know much better than he had.   
  
At the end of the forever growing line, he came across the one he would always know was there, standing proudly and silently, but making its mark in the soil. [So much like her...] he acknowledged.  
  
  
{In Remembrance of Mara Jade Skywalker}   
  
  
It was identical to the others, save the name, but it meant worlds more to Luke. He stopped before it and sat, holding the lightsaber before himself as if it were a candle of rememberace in a religious tradition.  
  
"Mara..." he started, trying to familiarize his tongue with her name. He hadn't spoken it in so very long. "Mara," he started again, "I miss you terribly." Each word came out stiffly, sounding trivial to his ears. "I'm so sorry. I haven't lived up to my promise. Leia awakened me–" he smiled a little, his voice relaxing, "--who else would have...?"   
  
He went on like that--into the night and until the sun came up the next morning--confessing...reliving...laughing...crying...reminiscing.   
  
And when he left, he was finally at peace with her.   
  
  
  
Leia stepped out of the transport and onto the humongous platform that hovered over the Imperial Plaza, her elegant dress and jewelry sparkling in the waning sunlight. Hapan jewels arranged in her sophisticated up-do glittered and shimmered as she bent over to gather her train in her arms. Leia started down the deep, royal purple path laid out before her, waving and smiling at the holocams and onlookers. The crowds cheered as she came into full view, confetti wafting from the highest towers and already littering the ground as if it were freshly fallen snow.   
As she walked down the isle to the podium, she couldn't help but feel alone, despite the confidence she was radiating. This was the first time she had arrived at the anniversary celebration alone. Before, Han was always on her arm, Luke on the other, and her children behind her. But this year, Jaina and Jacen and Anakin had wanted to go to a party held by one of their friends from the Academy, Han was of course no where to be found, and Luke was an entirely different matter. Leia sighed inwardly, her eyes casually scanning the little groups of diplomats and Coruscant's elite.   
  
[Where is he?] she asked herself, already knowing the answer.  
  
She reached the steps that led up to the podium and welcomed Mon Mothma's outstretched arms with warmth.   
  
"How are you, Leia?" her friend asked quietly, for the media's tiny microphones were everywhere.   
  
"Lonely," she admitted, "But I''ll manage." They pulled apart.   
  
"Where is Luke?"   
  
"Please...I''ll tell you another time," Leia smiled for the cameras' benefit. How she hated being observed so thoroughly by the public.  
  
"Of course," the elder woman accepted understandingly.   
  
Borsk Fey'lya interjected himself between the two women. "Greetings to you both on this fine evening," he acknowledged them.   
  
"Hello, Borsk," Leia smiled as the Bothan turned to Mon Mothma, grateful that she wasn't the one trapped by those violet eyes.   
  
"Leia!" Wedge exclaimed, sending Leia into a rushed attempt to tag the voice with a figure.   
  
"Wedge, I haven't seen you around lately!" she answered with surprise. "Hello, Iella," she added as Wedge's wife came up from behind him.   
  
"Hi, Leia."   
  
"Where's Luke? We have some stories to pass around, you know," Wedge smiled.   
  
"That seems to be the question tonight, doesn't it?" Leia smiled warily. The three laughed easily.   
  
"And the kids?" Iella inquired.   
  
"Partying with the rest of Coruscant!" she answered. "And what of yours?"   
  
"At home with the nanny."   
Leia smiled, noting to herself how neatly the obvious question of Han's whereabouts was avoided.   
  
"Hello, Leia," Mirax approached the three, Corran on her tail.   
  
"Mind if we join?"   
  
"Not at all!" Wedge answered. Leia looked from Corran and Mirax to Wedge and Iella and realized just how much she missed Han.   
  
A squadron of X-wings streaked overhead, signaling the beginning of the ceremonies.   
  
"I'd better get up to the alter, I have a speech to make," Leia explained and took her leave, glad to escape.   
  
"Good luck!" Mirax sent after her.   
  
"May the Force be with you," Corran amended his wife's phrase.   
  
  
  
As Leia stepped to the podium––she had been chosen to start off the ceremonies this year––the hundreds of lights that highlighted the Imperial Palace faded into darkness. As instructed over the Holonet, private owners that resided inside of the towering complexes extinguished their lights as well, leaving only the head of the platform Leia was on to be visible.   
  
She could feel all of the eyes on her, the millions of citizens waiting just for her words hanging out of windows and balconies and hover boats and transports. A hush came over the crowd as Leia stepped into the spotlight. She calmed her dancing nerves, and began to speak. Not from a datapad as she might have, but from her heart.   
  
"Twenty-five years ago to this day I was on Yavin Four with the Death Star hanging menacingly over my head. The Rebellion was an insignificant force in the galaxy, and the Empire ruled the very planet we are on. Most of you," she gestured widely with her arms to the beings before her, "Were under the oppressive rule of the Empire. Fear ruled the galaxy, not freedom.   
  
"But look at how far we have come in only a quarter of a century. We have the New Republic, a government that stands for freedom, we are resurrecting the Jedi Knights, who were all but extinct previously, and we are celebrating a battle that was against all odds to win at the time. Tonight, let us celebrate the victory that truly began our movement against the Empire, and let us honor those who fought in the name of freedom!"   
  
The crowd erupted in cheers and victory cries in every language imaginable. Leia stepped down from the podium and caught Mon Mothma's arm before she stepped up to take Leia's place.   
  
"Please, Mon, can you stall the reading of the names?" Leia caught the confused expression that crossed Mon Mothma's eyes. "Luke isn't here, I want to give him time to show."   
Mon Mothma nodded and Leia let out the breath she was holding. [I've done my part, Luke. Now you must do yours.]   
  
"Due to an unexpected situation, our program will be altered." Mon Mothma paused as a message appeared on the datapad before her. "We now welcome music that comes to us directly from Vortex."   
  
Applause filled the air as the beautiful and unique music of the Vors was projected from hidden speakers throughout the area. Many couples took to the middle of the platform and started dancing as colored spotlights played over them. Coruscant's sun had set only minutes ago, leaving the city bathed in the artificial light it was so well known for.   
  
Leia looked at the many couples dancing and her heart fell. [Oh Han,] she thought, [What I wouldn't give to have you back by my side.]   
  
"May I have this dance?" a hand was extended in Leia's direction, the owner standing behind her.   
  
"Oh, no, I..." she turned to face the man and gasped, her hand finding its way to her mouth.   
  
"Hello, Your Highnessness," the deep voice filled Leia's ears with longing.   
  
"Han," was all she could manage to get out, afraid that if she opened her mouth again she would burst out in tears. He was really there, in front of her, wearing his best clothes and that wonderful smile. It wasn't a dream––was it?   
  
"Well?" he gestured to his outstretched hand.  
  
No, it wasn't.   
  
It took her a moment to gather herself, but once she did Leia put all of her court training into motion.   
  
"Of course," she curtsied and took his hand, unable to fade the smile she wore even if she had wanted to.   
  
"That was quite the speech, Princess," he mentioned as he escorted her onto the dance floor.   
  
"Thank you."   
  
"Are you here with anyone else? Maybe I can escort you home, too."   
  
She smiled, her heart filling with pure happiness. They took each other in their arms and began dancing, both of them aware of the whispers electrifying the air surrounding them.   
  
"You came back," she whispered, hugging him close, afraid to let go.   
  
"Of course I did, I couldn't let you take all the reward," he smiled.   
  
"I'm worth more to you than money," she answered. "I've missed you so much, Han. I love you."   
  
"I know," he answered. He stopped dancing suddenly enough for her to nearly fall. But he caught her, and brought her lips to his in a tender kiss, one that beheld the strength of a first breath.   
  
"I'm sorry for interrupting, but may I cut in?"   
  
Han stepped in front of her, as if he were protecting her. "We just got back together, how about some time alone?" he asked harshly, but with a smile.   
  
"I'm sorry, but--"   
  
"Luke!" Leia exclaimed, running around Han to hug her brother. "Luke!"   
  
He coughed. "Leia, I need some air--"   
  
She let go, looking into his eyes, "I knew you would come, I just knew it!" she hugged him again, and this time he returned it. "Are you at peace?" she whispered into his shoulder.   
  
"Yes, I am," he said, satisfied with the realization. "Everything will be okay."   
  
"What changed your mind, Luke?" Leia asked, in awe of the calm that was rolling from him once again. He had changed, she could *feel* it.   
  
He smiled, a far-off look clouding over his eyes. "A promise."   
  
Leia reflected his smile. She had Han on one arm, Luke on the other, and her family together once more. The Yuuzhan Vong didn't stand a chance. 


End file.
